Say Something
by Principles of Magic
Summary: There are people who take the heart out of you and then there are the ones that put it back. Elijah and Hayley have come to realize that if they don't say something, they'll lose everything. [Haylijah]
1. Choices

**AN: Hi all—the following series has been written in a collaboration of ideas and words by me and Beth (sqrlb8 here on FF). Please feel free to drop her a line as well if this story gets you all hot and bothered—we could hardly get it written, we were so distracted by the tension and angst!**

Genevieve strolled along with Klaus, watching the different couples on the dance floor. When they came to stand next to Jackson and Hayley, she voiced her opinion of what passed for dancing these days.

"Dancing was so much simpler back in my day: You just waived your arms around and looked gorgeous doing it. Whatever this is, it looks far too complicated to be any fun."

Klaus chuckled. "Nonsense, it's simple, love. I'm sure you'd be a natural at it, after all, the tango is just a vertical expression….of a horizontal desire."

Genevieve sent him a knowing gaze, desire pooling in her eyes as a smile curved her red lips.

"You don't have that quite right, brother. The dance of which you speak…is actually the rhumba."

Klaus turned to find Elijah standing behind them. "Ah, yes, you're right brother. Now there was a dance I could get behind." A cheeky grin spread across his face.

"You….know the difference?" Hayley asked, directing her inquiry towards Elijah, surprised by this revelation.

"Oh, you'd be astounded by the things my brother knows, little wolf. Elijah here is quite the patron of the arts, all of them, although he prefers to observe rather than to participate."

"Again, Niklaus, your information is incorrect," Elijah said, taking a sip from his champagne flute.

"Well, rhumba or tango, I don't care," Genevieve said, grasping Klaus's hand, "as long as you express yourself with me on the dance floor."

Klaus smirked and led her away from the group, stopping by the DJ's booth to request a specific song. Strong, sensual beats filled the room as the first notes of We Want War drifted thru the speakers.

As the couple took their place on the floor, amongst the sea of other dancers Hayley addressed Elijah again.

"So, are you saying that you know how to tango? Seriously?"

Elijah smiled. "I haven't in many years, but yes, I do know how to dance the tango… as well as the rhumba."

Hayley caught the sensuous undertone in his voice, reminding her of Klaus's description of the dance.

"Shall I show you?"

Hayley glanced at Elijah's outstretched hand and shook her head. "I'd better not. Besides, you'd probably be better off with someone more like yourself."

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Hayley cast a glance to the dance floor where Klaus and Genevieve were going thru the motions, oblivious to anyone except themselves.

"Hayley-,"

"No, Elijah," she snapped, defensively. "I don't now how to dance the tango, so it would be pointless."

The look of disappointment on his face wasn't lost on Hayley, no more than the look of smugness on Jackson's face was lost on Elijah.

Hayley attempted to soften the unnecessary blow. "And counting the baby, I'm literally working with two left feet tonight."

Elijah lowered his hand. "Contrary to what most people think of the dance, Hayley, dancing the tango is as easy as taking a walk."

She watched Klaus's hand skim up the side of Genevieve's leg and disappear beneath the woman's dress to cup her ass. Hayley scoffed and turned away from the spectacle. "I doubt that."

"It's simply an interpretation of the music." Elijah continued. "Though, it can be many things to different people. For example, to my brother, it's about controlling his partner, molding them, forcing them into steps that he alone directs so his partner has no choice but to follow. He uses the dance to bend his partner to his will."

Their eyes once again drifted to the aforementioned couple on the dance floor and Hayley saw immediately what Elijah was talking about.

Klaus was literally at that moment bending Genevieve over his arm while directing her leg high upon his hip. A second later, he pushed her from him and pulled her back, his leg thrust between hers, his hand cupping her throat, bringing her mouth to his in a punishing kiss. The willowy red head was putty in his hands. It was all about control. And sex.

Hayley felt nauseous. "That is not walking, Elijah."

"No, that is not walking. That is, however, the rhumba with a few other… things… thrown in." A smile curved his lips as his gaze once again met hers.

"And there's a difference between the tango and that-," Hayley said motioning to the dance floor.

Elijah nodded. "Yes. The tango is more about working together as one. There is a leader and a follower. While the leader may invite the follower to step in a certain direction, the follower can choose whether or not to accept that direction. But they both choose to maintain harmony and balance thru out the dance. Form a connection, if you will."

They continued watching as Genevieve teased Klaus with a glimpse of shapely thigh, only to turn away and dance to the other side of the floor when he reached out to stroke her tantalizing skin. She tossed him a saucy grin over her shoulder as Klaus stalked up behind her and spun her around, reaching for the prize she denied him. He yanked her up high upon his hip, his hands gripping the witch's exposed thigh tightly as he spun them in several tight circles before dropping her to the floor as he loomed over her. It was pure dominance.

"I have a hard time picturing you doing that," Hayley said, her gaze still locked on the couple on the dance floor. She was having an even harder time not picturing herself dancing with him like that.

"That's because, unlike my brother, I don't use the dance to manipulate my partner rather I allow the dance to manipulate me."

"There's something I never thought I'd see. An Original being manipulated for a change," Jackson interceded.

Elijah cast a glance towards the alpha wolf while he swirled his champagne. "Have you ever danced the tango?"

Jackson lifted his chin defensively. "Hell no. And I've never had the hankering to learn it either."

"That is unfortunate. Dancing the tango would allow you to listen to, understand and converse with the person you're dancing with."

Jackson snorted in response.

"And it would also allow you to do it without the benefit of using your limited vocabulary."

Elijah dismissed the annoyance that flashed in Jackson's eyes as he returned his attention to Hayley again.

"It has been my experience that the only reason to dance the tango is to embrace your desire to share a moment of intimacy and understanding with another person."

Elijah's voice stroked along Hayley's skin as she listened to his words. She could feel his magnetic pull and felt it drawing her in. His eyes caught hers for a silent moment before she glanced back to the dance floor.

"This is probably the very reason why I haven't had the desire to dance it in so many years. Until now, that is."

He held his hand out to her once again.

"The lady said no," Jackson growled, stepping towards Elijah.

"She said, she didn't know how to dance the tango," Elijah corrected.

"Same thing, pal."

Hayley pulled on Jackson's arm and addressed Elijah herself. "If it's all the same to _everyone here_, I think I'll sit this one out. I'm not feeling the whole student teacher vibe thing tonight, but thanks, any way."

"Well, I, for one, would_ love_ for Elijah to show me a moment of intimacy and understanding."

Hayley's eyes narrowed as she watched Francesca Correra slink her arm thru Elijah's. The brunette smiled as she addressed the group.

"On the dance floor, of course. That is, if you don't mind, Hayley."

"Why would I mind?" Hayley responded thru a forced smile. Jackson suddenly looked down at her when she dug her fingernails into his arm.

"What do you say, Elijah? I've been dying to dance the tango but could never find someone who could… keep up with me." Francesca's voice dripped seduction as Hayley found herself clenching her teeth to the point her jaw ached.

When Elijah made no move to acknowledge her presence, Francesca ran her fingertips up the front of his jacket and pressed herself against his arm.

"Besides, it would give me a chance to show off this dress you were admiring earlier."

Elijah caught the flash of jealousy on Hayley's face before she leveled him with a silent look that mirrored the anger that was beginning to course thru his body.

"Go, dance with Francesca. Don't let me keep you." Hayley finally said, pasting a fake smile on her face.

The deceptive jump of her heartbeat reached his ears above the music. Her mouth said one thing while her eyes screamed something else entirely.

_Go ahead. Dance with the bitch, see if I care. _

"Elijah?" Francesca inquired, pulling on his arm. "Shall we?"

Breaking eye contact and with a slight nod to Hayley, he turned to Francesca. "Of course," he murmured.

"Would you mind?" Francesca asked, thrusting her drink towards Hayley and Jackson.

Hayley's face flushed outrage but before she could take the glass and throw it in the woman's face Elijah quickly took it and placed it with his own on a passing tray.

Annoyance filled his features as he returned his gaze to Francesca. Waving his arm towards the dancers, he said "After you, Ms. Correra."

Francesca smiled and started across the dance floor, working their way thru the throngs of other dancers. Klaus and Genevieve had finished their raunchy display and were catching their breaths as they approached.

"Decided to join in the raucous camaraderie, Elijah?"

"Your brother has graciously agreed to show me some of his tango moves," Francesca purred.

Klaus quirked an eyebrow as he glanced towards Elijah. "And how, pray tell, were you able to convince my brother to agree to that particular dance after all these years?"

"She hasn't," Elijah countered, "Tonight we will simply share a dance."

Francesca chose to ignore Elijah's denial and said, "Well, when Hayley refused his offer I was only too happy to take him up on it."

"And he's agreed to use you as a substitute?" Genevieve said.

Francesca's smile slid a notch as she tossed back her hair and glared at Genevieve.

"The show must go on, mustn't it? After all, behind every leading lady is an understudy, desperate for her time in the spotlight, hm?.. Which reminds me, is Camille not coming tonight? I had wanted to talk with her."

Klaus heard Genevieve's swift intake of breath as the question hung in the air, unanswered. While the two women glared at one another, he continued to smirk at his brother's obvious discomfort.

Refusing to meet his baby brother's gaze, Elijah took Francesca in his arms and joined the other dancing couples.

Klaus cast a glance towards the side of the dance floor and caught Hayley's expression of disgust as her eyes followed Elijah dancing with Francesca. He noticed Jackson whispering something in her ear which caused the little wolf to glower even more. A slow smile curved up his face as an idea formed.

The music abruptly ended as Klaus stood on the podium next to the DJ.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention for a moment, please," he began, clinking his glass of champagne with a fork to draw the attention of the room's occupants. "I'm sure I speak for both my brother and I when I say how much we appreciate your presence here tonight as we celebrate the dawn of a new age of….cooperation…in the Quarter."

As he released Francesca from their dancer's embrace, Elijah's gaze narrowed while he tried to follow his brother's thought process. He didn't like this. Nothing good ever came from Niklaus's grandstanding.

Klaus continued. "You might be surprised to learn that tonight is as much about business as it is about pleasure; after all, why slave at the table when you can _negotiate_ on the dance floor? And who better to lead by example," he said, waving his hand towards Elijah, "then my big brother."

Elijah's jaw tightened as every eye turned to him. "Niklaus, don't –"

Klaus leaned over and murmured something to the DJ who nodded his head in agreement. Elijah's back stiffened as he recognized the first thrumming notes of Santa Maria by Gotan Project.

Jumping from the podium, Klaus quickly made his way back to his brother's side, a mischievous glint in his eye as he felt the waves of anger pulsing from Elijah.

"Niklaus, I don't see the need for this blatant display-,"

"Nonsense, brother," Klaus said, slapping a hand on Elijah's shoulder and forcibly directing him back to Francesca. "I'm sure everyone here is excited to see you and Ms. Correra…..negotiate thru your differences….on the dance floor.

While the floor cleared, leaving room for the lone couple, Klaus led Genevieve to stand near Hayley and Jackson.

"I'd say the evening just got interesting, wouldn't you agree, love" he murmured as he passed Hayley to stand behind her and Jackson.

"If I wanted interesting, I could have just saved myself a trip tonight and caught Dancing with The Stars on TV," Hayley muttered, crossing her arms.

Jackson glowered at Klaus. "Do you want to go home?" he asked Hayley.

"Come now, mate, trust me when I say my brother's dancing skills are something much better witnessed in person." Klaus said, his voice laced with humor. "Think of it as…..foreplay."

Hayley's shocked gaze swung to Klaus. When he winked at her, she shook her head and blew out a breath all the while wishing for a stiff drink. She turned back around, ignoring Klaus's obvious attempt to rattle her.

Her gaze caught Elijah's and heat instantly shot thru her. He refused to look away from her as Francesca positioned herself against his back. He was angry, that much was obvious, but there was something else. _Desire? _

_The only reason to dance the tango is to embrace your desire to share a moment of intimacy and understanding with another person._

Francesca's hand glided around his waist and up his chest, sensuously stroking the tense muscles beneath his shirt. His hand covered hers to stop its progress.

As she slowly stepped to his left, Elijah's eyes finally released Hayley and followed Francesca's movements. He pivoted and wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her chest close to his in an embrace so Francesca's fingers could cup the back of Elijah's head and bring his mouth a whisper away from hers. He reached up and took her hand away from him, clasped it deliberately in his left hand and directed her backwards, walking the length of the dance floor before reversing the path, turning them in circles while doing so.

They did a couple quick steps before Elijah propelled them around in circles again, taking long strides that allowed Francesca's legs to curl between his. He bent slightly at the knee to support Francesca's weight as he spun her around in a circle in perfect time with the song. Wherever he lead, Francesca gladly followed, his hands guiding her body in any direction he saw fit.

They continued their long steps from one end of the floor to the other, like a pendulum swaying back and forth, stretching to its limits one direction until left with no choice, it returned to continue its natural glide the other way. It was poetry in motion to watch. With each lift and turn she would cling to him like a vine and with each elegant toss of her over and around his shoulders, she flowed like water over his body, dancing together as if they'd been partners for years rather than mere minutes. They moved like lovers. It was erotic and hypnotic.

Hayley tore her gaze from them to look around the room. It was immediately clear that everyone else was as affected by what was happening on the dance floor as she was. She glanced up at Jackson. His expression left no need for interpretation. Suddenly it felt voyeuristic to Hayley, like she was intruding on some erotic moment between Elijah and Francesca. She felt the blush as it crept up her neck. Reluctantly, her gaze was drawn back to Elijah.

He'd dipped them low again and Francesca's leg was wrapped around his. As Elijah started to pull her up, she ran her hand up his chest in a lover's caress and spread her fingers to cup his face, locking his gaze with hers. Before he could react, she quickly brought his lips down to cover hers.

A fraction of a second later, Elijah jerked her up and spun her away from him, but brought her back against his chest in one fluid motion, their foreheads touching as Francesca smiled into Elijah's angry dark eyes. He twirled her around so that her back was against him.

To an outsider it was a dramatic step in the dance, but Francesca knew better. She felt every ounce of anger in the biting grip of his fingers as he wrapped her arms around herself again, his hands gripping her wrists tightly, preventing any movement on her part. When he dipped his head to her neck again he growled into her ear.

"Don't do that again."

The dance had come to a dramatic end as the room erupted into applause. When he released her, she spun around and smiled widely at the scowl on his face. She leaned into him and wiped her finger across his lips to remove the lipstick stain her surprise kiss had left. To everyone, it was an intimate moment between them. To Francesca, though, it was a calculated move. Her gaze found Hayley's in that instant and she smiled at the expression on the girl's face.

When they separated, Elijah's gaze sought Hayley. When he found her the message that her eyes conveyed to him was clear. She didn't belong here. _She didn't belong with him._

He watched her grab Jackson's arm and turn to leave only to have Klaus block her escape. Words were exchanged. She cast a glance back towards Elijah and with a final withering look, she bolted from the room.

_Hayley, don't- _his mind screamed.

Another song started and the floor quickly filled with people eager to replicate what they'd just witnessed. Elijah disengaged himself from Francesca's clinging arms and with as much diplomacy as he could muster escorted her off the dance floor.

He reached Klaus's side and looked around. "Where did she go?"

Klaus feigned innocence. "Who?"

Elijah glared at him.

"You mean Hayley? Oh she's long gone, brother. One minute we were discussing your superb dancing skills which led to the subject of foreplay on the dance floor coming up or something….and the next she was mentioning getting a room—grabbed Jackson and off they went. It was all a bit of a blur, actually. "

"Now Nik, that's not true. She said that next time Elijah and Francesca should get a room," Genevieve corrected sweetly. "You really should, you know. After witnessing that, I can just imagine what you two could accomplish for this city between the sheets."

Rage simmered in Elijah's eyes as he leveled Genevieve with a glare that had the witch momentarily flinching under its intensity.

"I highly doubt your imagination between the sheets could reach a level that anyone would remotely find interesting, Genevieve."

Genevieve's mouth dropped open and Klaus chuckled under his breath.

"Except, perhaps, my baby brother, but then again beggars can't be choosers can they?"

Elijah derived a small modicum of pleasure from the glower that replaced the smirk on Klaus's face as he left the room in search of Hayley.


	2. Zugzwang

They say you can't please everyone, but perhaps you can, if you forgo all hope of ever pleasing yourself.

Elijah wasn't even sure if that was true.

In chess there is a situation called a zugzwang, a catch-22 upon the board. It's your turn, and the other player has forced you to make a move. The problem is, there is no option left open that won't hurt you.

That won't hurt, period.

Elijah was hurting, he had to admit it to himself. That was why he was in this grimy establishment after all, wasn't it? Four drinks in and halfway through some sad piano ballad, he sat at the bar, attempting to drink away his frustration, and his helplessness, and his hurt.

Or at least hoping that the alcohol would inspire some divine move.

Klaus had him cornered, but to be honest, he was letting his brother win. He shouldn't have let Klaus manipulate him at the Faction party; that stunt, with Francesca, with the tango, that was a cold and calculated move which had forced Hayley off the board and her pack out of the game. And now the jealousy that Klaus had so knowingly incited within him was threatening to take him out of the game as well.

_I have denied every single impulse that I have ever had for that woman out of some misbegotten respect for intentions you don't even have. No more. If I want something…I'll take it. And nothing….nothing will stand in my way._

What to do?

He could go to her, tell her that all he wanted was for her to be happy. It was no lie:

_What I want…is for that girl to be happy._

He had meant it.

He could go to her, tell her to be with Jackson since that seemed to make her so happy. Out there, in the bayou, he had seen them; they seemed happy, a family almost.

What to do?

Or he could choose the easy route—the easiest route—and just leave, leave the Quarter, leave his brother, leave Hayley.

If what he had seen tonight at the Fete was any indication of the road to come, the idea of peace in the Quarter was as foolish a hope as him and Hayley ever being together. These people didn't want peace, they didn't want to be ruled, they wanted what they wanted -and that was the problem.

He envied them. He wanted what he wanted too.

Elijah thought of his sister, his baby sister who only ever wanted to be free.

_You are free, _he had told her.

But it wasn't true until Niklaus said it was so. He was the game master of all their lives. Elijah thought of Rebekah and of following her lead, of just getting the hell out of this town.

He would have to leave her, of course. He'd have to leave behind Hayley, or he was just as doomed as if he stayed.

As he replayed his options, he shook his head with resignation. He really had no viable choice but to let Klaus win, no matter which scenario he chose, Elijah ended right back where he started because the only option out of this was going to hurt.

"Elijah?"

His gaze swung to the young woman standing beside him as the bartender refilled his drink, the sound of laughter and music surrounding them.

"Camille, you found me."

"Were you hiding?"

"Perhaps—would you like to sit?" He motioned to the barstool beside him.

"Oh, no, thank you though. I'm actually on my break. Seemed kinda sad to take your break where you work so I got some air, saw you brooding through the window."

"Am I brooding?" He took a sip of his drink and returned it to the bar, his eyes following the amber liquid in the pattern of the tumbler as he tilted it back and forth.

"I would say so, the way you're nursing that drink. I know you can't be compelled, but if you're trying to forget something, try the vodka."

He had. It hadn't worked.

When he didn't make any indication to respond, Cami placed her purse on the bar and sat down beside him. "Let me guess, Klaus troubles."

"How did you know?"

"Your brother casts a wide net."

"He certainly thinks he has everyone ensnared in his trap, and now I find myself in a zugzwang."

Cami's eyebrows rose at this reference. "You play chess? Of course you play chess; you were probably there when it was invented."

A smile teased the corners of his lips as he took another sip of his drink.

"So what has the two-faced sociopath done this time?"

He turned and faced Cami.

"My brother is content to see everyone as a pawn, to be manipulated and moved into place, simply a piece in whatever scheme he is currently cooking up. What he fails to understand is that even a pawn can become a queen in time."

Cami remained silent for a while. Sadness crept into her features as she glanced around the room.

"My uncle taught me how to play, when I was little. I would play with my brother—I sucked, but my brother would always let me win."

"Camille, I am sorry about your uncle—"

Cami's gaze met his and when she saw the compassion in his eyes, she smiled in acknowledgment.

"Thank you, Elijah, but that's not why I'm telling you this." She stood and retrieved her purse.

"Klaus is not as good as you, but you always let him win, you let him dictate your life, you give up everything you want so that he has everything he wants. Life is too short to throw the game—even for an immortal. If you want to play, play to win."

He watched her retreating back until she left the pub. He liked Camille. She wasn't just someone who could reach a degree of morality, generosity, and compassion that most humans couldn't comprehend; she had the strength and wisdom to do so in spite of any difficulty thrown in her path. Perhaps his brother would benefit from his constant admiration of her.

Elijah finished his drink and removed his wallet from his pocket. Slapping down a $50 on the bar he nodded to the bartender and left the pub.

He had a move to make.


	3. Pull Me Down

**THANK YOU to all our lovely readers and reviewers for sticking with us throughout this labor of love. And sorry for the wait-genius takes time ;) And now, the end of "Say Something!" xo Beth and Irene**

The emptiness within the gates was in stark contrast to the festive bustle of city streets outside. What fiery determination had fueled his steps now burned low in the quiet of compound. In the silence his thoughts once again grew loud in his mind and his steps slow and reluctant.

When he had left Camille at the bar, he had decided what move to make: he would go out to the bayou and tell Hayley that he would be hers if she so wished - damn Klaus and his opinions to hell. With asimple _yes_ from Hayley he would be free to express the feelings he'd kept tightly sealed away from his brother's prying and mocking eyes; or if her answer was _no_, well, then at least he'd have an answer and maybe at least he'd finally be able to get some peace.

As it was, the best laid plans of mice and men and Originals often go awry.

He'd arrived at the bayou, prepared for a _yes_ and had left with an unquestionable _no. _

Watching her and Jackson had been a torturous lesson in masochism. Their shared laughter, their camaraderie, it rankled him, riled him. It made him more determined than ever to win this game, but it was the baby's kick and the intimate touch that Hayley had shared with Jackson that made Elijah realize that he had been foolish to think that this game could even be won in the first place.

Watching Hayley by the fire - that was all the answer he as he climbed the staircase to the upper levels, he was lost in thought as he struggled to imagine if there was anyway possible to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

He wanted her to be happy, but what if he was not the one to make her happy.

Would he then let her go? _Could he then let her go?_

By the time Elijah made his way up to his bedroom, removed his tie and shrugged out of his jacket he was locked in battle with a new opponent, one more prohibitive and ruthless than his brother.

Himself.

He threw his jacket unceremoniously over the chair and was in such a fury to get to the bar cart that he nearly walked right into the reading table. The lamp wobbled precariously for a second until he set his firm hands on it, looking down at that moment at the chessboard beside it.

Elijah groaned. He didn't need his brother to mock him; the entire universe was already in on it.

Flipping over the board with a frustrated growl, he stepped over the pieces as they rolled this way and that under various bits of furniture as if hiding from an angry god. One, naturally enough, rolled right into his path and he paused only long enough to scoop it up.

The white alabaster was smooth between his fingers as he crossed the room to his iPod docket and proceeded to scroll through the playlist he'd received from the DJ the night of the Faction party until he came to track 13. The irony of that number wasn't lost on him as he reached to turn the volume up.

While the song they'd dance to washed over him, he poured himself a fresh drink and sat down at the antique desk by the window, leaning back in the chair to close his eyes, the stone piece still tight in his grip. His mind drifted to the dance he'd shared with Hayley and their discussions about her living situation.

He had wanted her to come back and live in the compound. She had wanted to stay in the bayou with the wolves - with Jackson.

Is that what made her happy? She certainly looked happy tonight, joking with Jackson and sharing stories over the campfire like a real family, a happy family.

His thoughts were interrupted.

"I would have thought a gramophone was more your style."

"Hayley, you shouldn't be here. Not at this hour."

"I wasn't aware I had a curfew."

When she didn't venture to say anything more, he rose protectively, almost instinctively, shoving the white stone piece into his pocket to survey her more carefully. She hung in the doorway still, arms crossed in a lazy, bored fashion. Her hair hung loose from earlier and it cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders. His fingers ached to feel the strands.

"Are you alright? Is it the baby? Has something happened?"

Hayley's eyes expressed a strained amusement at his worry.

"Nothing's happened to the baby. That's not that problem."

"Are you hurt?"

"_Yeah, I am." _

Elijah frowned before his eyes traveled down her glowing body, sweeping over soft curves and taking in every glimpse of skin for signs of harm or injury until they landed on her swollen belly. Both mother and child appeared fine. Satisfied she was safe, he reached for his drink and took his seat again, setting it in his lap.

Hayley had come all the way here for a reason, it would be nice if she would so kindly share said reason with him. He was not in the mood for guessing games, nor was he particularly thrilled that she had now appeared in the compound after so adamantly refusing to return at his earlier offer.

Above all he was confused: why was she here if she was so much happier out there?

"Is there something you need then?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, actually, there is. Want to tell me what you were doing out in the bayou earlier?"

Taking a sip from his drink, he sat up and placed it on the desk so that he could lean his elbows on it. "I made a promise to protect you. After what happened tonight, I had to make sure you and the baby were alright."

She came forward into the room, standing before his desk now.

"Ever heard of a phone? You could have just called me and saved yourself a trip."

"Astounding, I was about to recommend the same to you."

When she raised her eyebrows at his curtness he tried to smooth it over, reining in his emotions that were already threatening to boil over after the events of the night.

He leaned back in the chair again and rubbed his forehead. "I wanted…. to see for myself."

Hayley shook her head in denial and placed her hands on his desk, leaning towards him.

"Nice try, Elijah. If you really thought something was wrong you wouldn't have let me leave the fête in the first place."

"I would have preferred that you'd stayed here, at the compound, but you chose to leave before I could stop you. "

She straightened and crossed her arms, clearly bristling from his remark. Elijah tried to soften his words.

"All I mean is, I think you would be safer here."

"Here with you, you mean."

"Not there." _With him_, Elijah added silently before he rose from his chair and moved to refill his drink.

He remained standing by the decanter with his back to her, unwilling to acknowledge the feeling that had snaked its way through his bloodstream since he had seen her out there in the bayou by the fire with the other wolves.

With _that_ wolf.

"So this isn't just about your promise, is it? What? Don't trust me with the wolves…in the wild…think I'll run away and never come back?"

He turned suddenly and faced her. "This has _everything_ to do with my promise, Hayley. You and that child are an important part of this family. And on my life, I will not let anything happen to you… or your daughter."

"You don't have to worry, Elijah, those wolves in the bayou _are_ my family. They take care of their own. They're not going to let anything happen to me. You didn't have to check up on me every night for the last month."

Elijah lowered his gaze to the floor. "Well, it appears I have not been as inconspicuous as I had hoped."

"Yeah, and you're not as subtle as you think either. I know you've been keeping tabs on Jackson."

"I don't trust him." Elijah crossed the room again and stood by the window, sipping his drink while he looked out over Bourbon Street.

Hayley frowned at his admission. "Don't trust him how? To protect me? Or to be around me, Elijah. Don't for one minute think I haven't noticed that you look like you want to tear his head off every time he's in the same room as me."

Elijah's fingers gripped the glass tighter. "And don't think for one minute I haven't noticed you two spending a concerning amount of time together lately."

Hayley's chin lifted as she advanced on him. "Maybe it's because at the end of the day he doesn't see me as some object that needs to be protected all the damn time."

Elijah's frustration was reaching a boiling point as he turned to face her. "And _maybe _you're safer here in the compound than you are out there in the bayou with him."

"I think after what happened tonight, we both know that's not true," she countered.

"Well Jackson didn't exactly stop that from happening either, did he?"

"What do you have against Jackson?_"_

His unquiet gaze gave her an answer. A dry, incredulous laugh tumbled from her mouth.

"And here I thought Jackson and Oliver were the only ones stuck in high school. Apparently the thousand-year-old vampire is the most immature of them all."

His gaze narrowed. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're jealous of Jackson, aren't you?"

He nearly flinched at how transparent he'd become. He turned away as he reached for his tumbler and swallowed its contents to hide his distaste for such a base emotion. Moving away from her, he motioned towards the doorway.

"Hayley, this is ridiculous and it's late. Perhaps you should stay here tonight and return to the bayou in the morning."

She refused to let him change the subject.

"Oh no, answer me, Elijah. It's a simple question. Are you going to tell me you gave Jackson all that grief because what? You didn't like his shirt?"

"I think very little of Jackson in general."

"That's not a real answer."

Elijah lowered his gaze and shook his head; her persistence was wearing him down. He could feel the tight control on his emotions starting to slip.

She crossed her arms and blew out a breath of frustration when he remained silent.

"I don't know what I was thinking coming here tonight," Hayley muttered as she started out of the room. She stopped at the doorway and turned to face him again.

"And you're wrong about Jackson. At least I can count on him to always be straightforward and honest with me which is more than I can say about you."

"What would you have me say?" Elijah snapped, his voice like silk encased in steel, "That it bothers me to see you two spend so much time together? That I'd much prefer that you be with me instead of him,that you'd feel the same?"

Hayley opened her mouth to respond but stopped when Elijah moved toward her, his steps slow and measured until he stopped just in front of her.

"Tell me Hayley, if I admit that I'm jealous, if I admit to all… of these things I feel," he said, waving his hand towards her, "would you stay here or would you return to the bayou?"

"I don't know, tell me how you feel and let's find out."

"This isn't a game, Hayley. What I _feel _for you is _not a game_."

"And putting conditions on your admission isn't playing games?"

She had him there, he admitted to himself.

"We've been dancing around this for months. I need you to tell me what you feel for me, Elijah. I need you to tell me something. Anything."

Elijah tilted his head and sighed with resignation. "What does it matter now? You made your decision, you refused my offer and you have moved out to the bayou instead of staying here, where you belong."

Hayley's nails dug into her palms at her side. "Why is it whenever you think I'm in trouble your automatic reaction is to tell me to sit and stay. God forbid, I actually make my own decisions or my own choices. Not like I've been making them my _entire life_ or anything."

The tension between them began to crack.

"You do realize your choices affect me, Hayley."

"No, Elijah I don't. I chose to move to the bayou to be with my family. It had nothing to do with you."

Elijah stepped closer, his control slipping another notch. "As long as you are out there, I can't keep my eye on both you and my brother, Hayley. I can't keep my promise to protect you when I can't be in two places at once. You can't act and then leave me to deal with the consequences."

Hayley's eyes sparked with indignation. "I never asked you to keep an eye on me. How many times do I have to tell you, I can take care of myself!" she shouted.

"Obviously," he said, waving towards her stomach.

His head snapped back from the force of her slap.

Elijah's face crumbled when he saw the hurt his callousness had caused reflected in her eyes.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean-"

"Go to hell!"

Her words stung worse than her hand across his face. Before she could escape, Elijah grasped her arm and pulled Hayley against him, capturing her glare with his heated gaze.

Every word was sharp and piercing and painfully sincere.

"I know hell. I have been in hell more times than I care to admit. But it is not a place; it is a state of mind. It is having everything you want dangled just out of reach; it is seeing the people you care about make the same mistakes again and again; it is living a thousand years while everything and… everyone you love dies around you."

Hayley took a shaky breath and stared up at him as her vision blurred through rising tears. Releasing his grip on her arm, he dropped his hand and used it to wipe the tears from her cheeks while his eyes fell to her mouth, to the lips that had haunted his dreams for months. His thumb lightly brushed across them before he brought his mouth close enough to lightly caress hers with the barest of kisses.

Elijah's chest felt on fire when the emotions he'd kept under tight control finally burst free as he buried his hands in her soft hair and tilted her gaze to his.

"_Hell…_" he repeated, his voice cracking, "is the idea of you with Jackson. With my own brother. With _anyone_… but me."

Elijah's mouth captured the gasp that spilled from Hayley's lips as he finally gave into the impulses they'd denied themselves for so long.

The kiss was everything he'd imagined it would be. Inviting. Soft. Enticing. He drew a moan from her throat that made him want to deepen the kiss, drawing her closer to his body, his fingers lightly stroking the hair at the base of her neck. Hayley's hands lifted and covered his as she leaned into him.

Elijah slowly pulled back, his lips reluctantly releasing hers as they rested their foreheads together. He laced his fingers through hers, keeping her close as he lifted them to his lips and softly nibbled each knuckle before lowering their entwined hands back to his chest. His breath came out ragged as his blood flowed hot through his veins. Her touch had stripped him of his defenses and her kiss had tossed him helpless into a storm of emotions, leaving him shipwrecked before her feet like a suppliant before a goddess.

"I was jealous. I _am_ jealous of Jackson, of the idea of you happy with anyone but me. Tonight, when I watched you with-"

"Shhh," she murmured, placing a finger across his lips.

Elijah hesitantly looked into her eyes when she leaned in to kiss him, her hands framing his cheeks. "It doesn't matter anymore. _That_ can stay in the past, but you can't."

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close as he surrendered to the exquisiteness of her mouth once again. Sliding his hand from her face, through her hair and across her shoulders, Elijah breathed in deeply, breathing her in, before moving his hands around hers, clasping them close.

They were moving, swaying now, the pulse of the music echoing the flutter of her heart. The dance was unintentional; they simply fell into the slow steps.

"I know this song," she whispered, looking up through dark lashes.

"Forgive me, it's been on loop-"

"No," she stopped him, eyes wide, "No, I know it from the Faction party. It's our song."

_Our song._

She rested her head across his chest, setting one hand high upon his shoulder in a dancer's embrace.

They stayed like that forever, or so it seemed. The song had rolled over twice, three times before Elijah spoke, softly as if Hayley were already asleep.

"Do you plan to spend the night?"

The song kept playing but Hayley stopped, pulling away to look at him with a lifted brow.

"General inquiry or personal invitation?"

He gave her one of his rare smiles as he gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Although that invitation exists—"

"Let's save it for another night," she answered, kissing him again before taking another step back. He held onto her hand as she moved away, reluctant to let her go.

"I'll stay at the compound tonight but tomorrow morning I'm returning to the bayou," she said, pressing forward when it appeared he might disagree with her decision, "I'm not just their family, Elijah, I'm their leader and they need me, especially now, out there fighting for them."

"The Queen has spoken," he relinquished, "and so it shall be. Rest well, Hayley. Perhaps I'll catch you in the morning."

"Perhaps," she sang, looking down at the hold he still held on her hand.

Realizing he was keeping her, Elijah finally let go and she rewarded him with another soft smile.

"Goodnight, Elijah."

She turned and he watched as she walked out the same way she had entered: regal, enthralling and simply enchanting. He stood in the open doorway, transfixed, watching her make her way down the hall toward the guest bedroom and wondering if this was the part when he woke up from the dream.

He waited on the threshold several minutes after he had heard her door close for the night. He could still hear her moving around the room, turning off the light, crawling into bed.

The silence returned to the Compound, but the emptiness did not. Elijah closed his eyes momentarily, trying to preserve the memory of their dance, the feel of her against him and the words of the song, words that said everything he wanted to.

He didn't have to recall because the song was still on.

Returning into his room, he finally shut down his iPod. Pulling it from its docket, he wrapped it up, setting it down next to his empty glass and his discarded jacket to remember to take with him tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, Hayley would be leaving again. Tomorrow his brother would ask him what she was doing here, mock his motives, deduce his feelings, and plan his counterattack.

And Elijah would just walk away, because she had been right; life was not a game. Games were about power and manipulation and _winning, _doing whatever it takes to get what you want. But Hayley had showed him that life was about failures and mistakes and _being unsure_ and despite all that going after the things you want.

Making his way to the wardrobe, he saw the black king peeking from beneath it. It could stay there tonight, at least until tomorrow. He suddenly remembered the other piece he was still hoarding in his pocket; he set the queen down alone upon the reading table, setting it up like a votive statue next to the lamp.

Elijah found himself grinning, recalling something he had read in a gaming handbook once.

_In chess there is a situation called a zugzwang, a catch-22 upon the board. It's your turn, and the other player has forced you to make a move. The problem is, there is no option left open that won't hurt you._

That is, of course, unless you throw the board to the ground, go outside, and live your life.

As Elijah prepared for bed, removing his watch and undoing his shirt one button at a time, he couldn't help but admire the chess pieces scattered all over the floor.


End file.
